The middle grade horror debut from USA Today bestselling author Amalie Howard in which a girl stays with her grandmother in Trinidad for the summer and discovers that she comes from a long line of witches.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Amalie Howard’s Bumps In The Night, which releases on February 20th 2024.
Thirteen-year-old Darika Lovelace is in big trouble. The kind of trouble that means she’s being sent off to her grandmother in the Caribbean. She should be grateful, but instead she’s angry. Angry at her dad and step-mom for sending her away for an entire summer. Angry at her mom who went away and never came back.
But the island is definitely not what she remembers! The minute she steps off the plane, strange things start happening, including being stalked by a baby iguana. When she meets a ragtag group of children on her Granny’s estate, she knows they are not what they seem, but after they promise to take her to her long-lost mom, she leaps at the chance.
Thrust into an incredible adventure involving strange monsters, a supernatural silk cotton tree, and a mysterious maze, soon the truth about her unique magical roots comes to light. She’s the island’s only hope, but unless she learns to believe in magic, all will be lost.
This airport is much smaller than the one I left from in the United States, and the large open windows let in a warm breeze that smells of a rainstorm and fresh-tilled earth. Colorful brown-green foliage sways in the distance, a rise of darker purple-hued mountains looming behind it. A plump lizard sunning on one of the sills catches my attention.
No, not a lizard, more like a baby iguana. As long as my forearm from elbow to wrist, it’s a brilliant green with black tail markings and looks like a miniature dragon, without the wings. For an instant, its eye connects with mine until a long pink tongue slicks over it, which is somehow simultaneously gross . . . and kind of adorable.
Keeping my face stoic, I look away. I don’t want to be charmed by or like anything about this place—not the cool reptiles, not the fresh smells, not the friendly, smiling faces like Tania’s.
Last time I was here, I was nine. More than three years ago. Before Mom left. Before Dad got remarried to Cassie. Before my stepbrothers, Max and Theo, came. Before everything in my life went downhill.
I stare at my scuffed sneakers, feeling sorry for myself again, when the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Shuddering and resisting the urge to rub my nape, I glance over my shoulder. My gaze instantly snags on a thin-faced but gorgeous woman, with her hair scraped back beneath a wide-brimmed hat, sauntering through the crowd.
My adrenaline spikes, like when you enter a pitch-black room and can’t find the light switch or right before the jump scare you know is coming in a scary movie. As she sails past me, her floor-length red gown way too fancy for the airport, my skin crawls.
Something about her feels off. A strange noise fills my ears, like a swarm of buzzing flies . . . or the faint rattle of chains. Stomach rolling, stark terror grips me in a giant fist. My breath stutters in my throat, and I drop my eyes. Don’t look at me, don’t look at me, don’t look at me, I chant silently.
On instinct, I shift so I’m hidden behind Tania’s ample form, out of the woman’s sight, though I can still see her. Her flowy old-style dress reminds me of a fancy ball gown and her face is so still it’s unnerving. Those wide-set eyes don’t blink and her mouth doesn’t move in that gruesome rictus. I narrow my gaze. Her chest doesn’t move either, for that matter. Why isn’t she breathing?
Is she dead?
UNDEAD?
When a pair of milky eyes sweeps in my direction, every muscle in my quaking body locks up. Oh my gosh, why can’t I move my feet anymore? I feel a sticky, soupy energy reaching for me like a dozen pairs of tentacles with long twisty feelers that are going to grab me and gobble me whole.
Trolleys clang behind me and I nearly jump a foot into the air.
I let out a small gasp, and that’s enough for her to swing around. My heart thrashes behind my ribs as the sensation of a hundred spiders scuttles across my skin, and fight-or-flight kicks in a half-second too late. Everything feels foul. I want to scream for help, call my dad and beg him to bring me home. Offer up anything—eternity in my room, babysitting duty for Max and Theo forever. I just want out of here.
But my shoes are glued to the floor.
My body is frozen in a trance, legs like iron weights, dread thickening in my throat with each manic thump of my heart. I stay close to Tania and try not to breathe or attract any more notice . . . but the sound of those chains rattling nears. Coming for me.
Suddenly, something bright green launches across my vision, breaking through the weird spell holding me in its webby grip. As my limbs gracelessly loosen from their corpselike hold, I see a familiar black-and-green-banded tail swish out of sight. My breath whooshes out. Thanks, little guy.
The slimy sensation eases as the woman strolls in the opposite direction, eyes probing the crowd, probably looking for her next meal. Waiting to strike when you least expect it, like a monster that hides in the closet or sleeps under the bed.
Monsters aren’t real, Rika.
But even after reminding myself of that rational fact a few more times for good measure, my pulse won’t quit racing. Reminiscing about Granny’s old stories and the shape-shifting spirit who eats people’s souls had gotten under my skin. I suppress a quiver. That woman had definitely looked like she’d enjoy a good soul buffet with a serving of soft, fresh kid bones on the side.
A snicker of nervous laughter bubbles up in me and I shake my head. “Get a grip, girl.”
